


Residue

by allofuswithwings



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Drift Side Effects, Feels, M/M, lingering neural connections
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofuswithwings/pseuds/allofuswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt discovers that perhaps there were more consequences to the Kaiju drift with Gottlieb than just burst blood vessels and nausea.  Something lingers in the back of his mind that is unsettling, yet not entirely unpleasant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first PR fic and considering I've only seen the movie once, the character accuracy may be a little rough, so apologies. These two just gave me so many feels, and I think they're an adorable odd couple.

 

Newt didn’t notice it at first.

 

Okay, that wasn’t strictly true – he _had_ noticed it.  But there had been a hundred and one other thoughts and emotions rocketing through him – not to mention the adrenaline and disbelief and relief – and everyone else’s ecstatic celebrations crowding him – that he simply hadn’t focused on it.  It was just a blip, a curiosity among everything that had rushed through his body the last few days.

 

But now the festivities had slowed and with everyone suddenly realising they had to decide what the hell to do with themselves, Newt could no longer ignore it.

 

Though what _it_ was, he couldn’t precisely tell.  There was no name, no word to describe the sensation that lingered in his body, in his mind.  The closest he came was that he was being followed.  But no, that wasn’t exactly it either.  Watched, perhaps.

 

Newt felt like he was in a room, and someone was standing behind him, just close enough for him to know they were there.  But when he turned around the room was empty, with only the light playing tricks on him to make him think otherwise.  He was just chasing shadows, that was all.

 

Those shadows were real though, they were _something_ – he could feel it in his mind and right down to his bones.  If Newt believed in ghosts, he would think he was being haunted by the spirit of the Kaiju.

 

Though, there was little doubt it _was_ the result of the Kaiju drift.  He’d never experienced hallucinations or paranoia like this before the drift, and it was well-documented that any kind of neural connection had repercussions, let alone one with an inter-dimensional alien.  He hadn’t been thinking of the risks to his mental health at the time – at _either_ time – because they’d needed answers, and for Newt, science was about doing what others wouldn’t in the name of discovery.

 

But now, as Newt began packing up the last of his equipment in the lab, he wondered if perhaps he should have been thinking about consequences.  He could have the remnants of a Kaiju mind stuck in his head for the rest of his life, like some creepy stalker.   Though, it was one that he admittedly felt a strange ache for.

 

So maybe it wasn’t all bad – as long as it didn’t make him go totally crazy, of course.  He could handle it, surely.

 

As if in reply, Newt’s mind suddenly prickled with sensation, the presence reasserting itself and sending a shudder through his body.

 

He stopped what he was doing and let out a nervous laugh, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses with two fingers.

 

“It’s okay, Newt, you can deal,” he muttered to himself.

 

“You’d better, because this is all your fault, you realise.”

 

Newt didn’t jump as he heard Hermann’s voice behind him.  He turned to see the usual expression of disapproval and exasperation on the scientist’s face.

 

“My _idea_ , but not my fault because technically I didn’t know what was going to happen.  _No-one_ could have known what was going to happen, so therefore I’m not responsible.  It’s just the risk that had to be taken to get answers.  And we did.”

 

“The risk was too great.”

 

Hermann’s voice wasn’t quite as stern as Newt thought it probably should be.

 

“No, I don’t think it was.  So, I end up a little bit crazy, so what?  It’s not like I’ve never been accused of that before, so there’s really not much difference.  No-one will know that I’ve got a little bit of Kaiju left over in my head except me, and really, being part-Kaiju is kind of awesome, you know.  I could develop cool powers or something.”

 

Hermann leant harder on his cane and rubbed a hand over his face.

 

“It’s not the Kaiju in your head, you imbecile.”

 

“Of course it is.  What else would it be?”

 

Hermann’s stare was long and patronising.

 

“Do you even know the particulars of what drifting entails in terms of the human brain, and the rewiring that takes place to create a stable neural bridge between two people?  There’s a reason that family members and couples were the most compatible matches to operate the Jaeger, and why the testing times were as long as possible.  Thrusting our discordant brains together using a neural link made from garbage to explore the hive mind of an inter-dimensional alien was always going to produce this result, Geiszler.”

 

Newt furrowed his brow at Hermann, both at his condescending tone and his continued insistence on formality.  As he approached the other scientist, a nagging but oddly comforting sensation began to curl around his mind.

 

“What result?  What are you even talking about?”

 

Hermann’s sigh was laced with exasperation.

 

“Like I told you, it is _not_ the Kaiju in there.”

 

“Well, if it’s not the Kaiju, then obviously it would have to be–”

 

Newt stopped as realisation dawned, hitting him like a freight train.  Hermann leant on his cane again, his eyes anywhere but on Newt now.

 

“You.  It’s you in my head,” Newt blurted out.  “The presence, the weird feeling of being watched, of reaching for something that’s not quite there.  That’s all you.  You’ve been haunting me all this time.”

 

Hermann threw him a brief glare.

 

“And you me.  Don’t think this is a one-way affair, or that I had any desire for it to have ended up how it has.  I too have to live with the discomfort of another mind attached to mine, and _you_ of all people.”

 

Normally, Newt would have snapped an insult back at his prickly, stuffy colleague, but it suddenly seemed utterly pointless.

 

“You don’t mean that.  In fact, you’ve never meant any of it, and only act like a douchebag to me because you don’t know how to deal with your emotions properly.”

 

Hermann went very still at this.  Newt suspected he’d grown pale too, though it was hard to tell given his pasty complexion.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.  I regard you only with disdain.”

 

Newt scoffed.

 

“Don’t even try to lie to me, because it’s totally stupid now I’ve been in your head.  I’ve seen enough of your memories to understand the kind of person you are, how you think.”

 

He watched Hermann swallow thickly; he looked just like a deer caught in headlights.

 

Newt went on.

 

“And hey, that’s okay because I guess you know me too, right?  You’ve been in my head – well, you’re still connected a little now, even.  But it’s not so bad.”

 

“It _is_ that bad.  I don’t _want_ anyone in my head, and I don’t want to be in anyone else’s.  I liked it when it was only me – I liked being alone.”

 

Newt’s expression lost its mockery and he found his hand reaching out to settle on Hermann’s arm.  Hermann stiffened.

 

“No, you didn’t,” he said gently.

 

They stood in silence for a while, a heaviness hanging in the air, and Newt didn’t drop his hand from its place on Hermann’s sleeve.  He couldn’t tell what Hermann was thinking, but through their connection he certainly got a sense of something roiling inside the other man.  It was like hearing voices muffled through a wall, or the hazy outline of a figure through heavily frosted glass.

 

Hermann finally brought his gaze back up to Newt, his mouth a hard line.

 

“That may be the case, but I didn’t ask for this.  I find it incredibly disconcerting.”

 

“Well, yeah, it’s weird – I’ll give you that.  But it’s not _awful_ , is it?” Newt ventured.  “I don’t think so, and I don’t think you do either.  It would be if you really hated me, but you don’t.  You–”

 

Newt stopped his train of thought.  He didn’t really know what Hermann thought of him.  The neural bridge wasn’t like watching a movie of someone’s life – it was a nauseating, hurtling ride of memory and emotion, so mixed up and melded with your own it was difficult to pry out distinct features.

 

“Yes?” Hermann prompted, his voice oddly soft.

 

Newt blinked at him.

 

“You don’t know what you feel,” he said uncertainly.

 

Hermann dropped his eyes and almost managed a smile.

 

“On this occasion, I will begrudgingly admit that you may not be entirely wrong, Geiszler.  But then again, you were always one to state the obvious.”

 

“Hah, but I’m right though, so there.”  He paused.  “And so what if I am?  I don’t see the problem with not knowing.”

 

Hermann shifted his weight, and Newt’s hand fell away from his arm.

 

“Then you’re not thinking it through.  I am a scientist, and a fastidious one at that.  I cannot leave an unknown element alone without trying to solve it – certainly not when it’s part of me.  And in this case, also not when it’s a particularly complicated component.”

 

Newt frowned at him.

 

“What’s so complicated about it?”

 

When Hermann looked up at him, his expression was strange.  It wasn’t the same variety of annoyed it usually was, rather he almost appeared sad or disappointed.  But in a moment it was gone, and Newt wondered if he’d only imagined it after all.

 

“Well, I suppose it’s like you said – I do not know how to deal with my emotions properly.  And I don’t particularly wish to learn, so would prefer to resolve this connection we have as quickly as possible.”

 

“What?  You mean undo it?  But we don’t even know what it is – we’ve never come across anything like it before!  When mankind for worked out how to drift and create a neural handshake, it was a revelation and an enormous step forward in our understanding of the human mind.  What we’ve created now is even _more_ incredible – we can’t just erase it and deny it ever happened.  We need to study it, explore its potential and its limitations.”

 

But Hermann was shaking his head now.

 

“I didn’t come to science to be the lab rat, thank you very much.  I’m aware of your fondness for self-experimentation, but you are not dragging me into your insanity.”

 

Newt threw up his hands.

 

“You’re already _in_ it!  It’s too late to be moaning about side effects – they’ve already happened.  We should be analysing them, not trying to get rid of them.  It’s all part of the adventure of science, Hermann – sometimes shit goes wrong and you have to make the best of what you’ve got.  It usually ends up more fun that way anyway.”

 

“I do not find the invasion of my mind _fun_ , actually.”

 

“You’re not even the least bit curious about this connection, then?  Nothing you’ve felt from it in the last few days piques your interest at all?” Newt asked.  “Cos I sure as hell haven’t experienced anything like it with another human being before, and I can’t just let that lie.”

 

When Hermann looked up at him, Newt didn’t think he’d ever seen him so uncertain.  He was even more surprised when Hermann brushed his fingertips down Newt’s bare forearm, just below his rolled-up sleeve.

 

A spike of something crackled in Newt’s mind, followed by a rush of emotion that came over him so quickly he jerked back in surprise.  His eyes were wide on Hermann, who watched him with a slightly grim expression.

 

“And some things _are_ best left alone, I think you’ll find.  Discoveries are not always positive.”

 

Before Newt could gather his wits and argue the point further, Hermann had turned from him and shuffled his way out of the lab.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've left this open because I do want to do more but haven't decided exactly where it's going yet. Other than to slash, obviously.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt can't stand on the edge of discovery and not jump. It just isn't in his nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta. Mostly because, like the first chapter, I just had to get it out.

Newt refused to do what Hermann wanted.

 

He didn’t believe that some things were best left alone, and certainly not this in any case.  There was too much unknown about their connection just waiting to be explored and tested, that he wouldn’t stand back and simply ignore it.

 

Not that he could now, anyway.  Now that he knew what it was, more precisely at least, and _who_ it was, there was no brushing it aside.  It sat there humming on the edges of his brain like a secondary data drive, just waiting to be accessed.

 

Newt wasn’t exactly sure how to do that yet; he had some ideas, but most of them involved Hermann being co-operative, which was unlikely at this stage.  And besides that, he’d been more than a little distracted for the last couple of hours, ever since the rather memorable demonstration of the extent of their neural link when Hermann’s fingers had traced over his skin.

 

That, certainly, had blind-sided him, and sent his mind running in all directions.  Not so much because of the technicalities and science behind it, which of course were fascinating in and of themselves.  But mostly it was because of how it had made Newt _feel_.  It had been an astonishing blast of both physical and emotional sensation, as though someone had found the switch to all his nerves, and turned them on all at once, up to 11.  He’d felt like a human Christmas tree of firing neurons, and as soon as it’d stopped he’d been achingly empty.

 

It was all Hermann’s damn fault of course, instigating it without warning him, so he wasn’t prepared for either the overwhelming intensity nor its excruciating absence.  Which was why he was up atop the scaffolding in the hangar bay watching the Jaeger machinery getting packed up for shipment, trying to force his mind to focus again.

 

Newt let his eyes track the path of the workers below, scurrying across the hangar bay floor as they bolted closed huge metal containers and checked their details into electronic data pads.  It was a little sad to see the last Jaeger workshop dismantled into pieces like this, to be sent off for storage in a high-security warehouse somewhere.  Not that there was any other option really; there were no Jaegers left to test or repair.  Now the portal to the Kaiju world was closed, the entire Shatterdome was obsolete, including most of the people that worked in it.

 

But even the dire state of his own employment prospects wasn’t enough to calm Newt’s thoughts, and they rounded again to incident with Hermann and exactly how those slim, unfamiliar digits felt running over his bare flesh.

 

Newt rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, letting out a shaking breath and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.  He could feel the way his heart had begun to thump against his ribcage, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t steady it.  Because with the absence of Hermann’s contact came an irrational desperation for it back; a want so deep and foreign that Newt wondered now if he really _was_ going insane.

 

The craving itself was something he couldn’t name, but more than that it was something he wouldn’t have thought to direct at Hermann.  Their relationship had always been primarily antagonistic, and though he knew now that had been mostly for show, it didn’t change the fact that they’d barely understood a thing about each other before the drift.  Besides that, neither of them had ever been interested in men, whether it be in a romantic or purely animalistic capacity.

 

Though, what Newt felt now was far beyond any of that.

 

The workers below were beginning to finalise the packing of containers, and Newt watched as the metal boxes began to get transferred to the docks one by one.  He leant his head against the steel girder beside him, sighing and allowing his eyes to shut again as the metal cooled his buzzing skin.

 

It didn’t help all that much, because his mind immediately began cataloguing the events of the afternoon again.  And all he could hear in his head was Hermann’s voice telling him they needed to sever the connection.

 

Newt let out an exasperated grunt and forced his eyes open.  He stood up and headed for the stairs, his mind still running with the speed of a hurtling train.  He barely registered the grated steps beneath his feet or the stray personnel he passed in the corridors towards his quarters.

 

*

 

Once inside, Newt shut the door firmly behind him, leaning back against it and bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.  The sound in his head was now growing to a dull roar.

 

So strongly he could feel the prickle of Hermann’s mind, buffeting and shivering against his own, and the more he tried to purge all thoughts of Hermann’s touch, the worse it got.

 

Or better, he supposed, depending on the perspective.

 

Because, _God_ , as unfamiliar as it was, Newt also couldn’t deny it was one of the most stimulating things he’d ever experienced.  He wanted to throw the doors of his mind wide open and let Hermann rush straight through it, twisting and probing every nook and cranny as he went.  He knew they were nowhere near that stage yet; Newt could barely discern Hermann’s emotions from his own in the fog of their current link, let alone allow someone else complete access to his head.

 

But that promise of discovery, the idea that such union was even _possible_ , was far too much temptation for Newt.  Even if he now wanted to leave their link alone like Hermann had asked, Newt didn’t think it was possible.  There was no way he could help himself.

 

He grasped for the link with his thoughts, imagining it as a thick cord of glowing threads that hung between them.  The more he reached for it the more it bristled and swelled, and Newt’s hands came down to brace against the cold metal of the door behind him.  His heart continued its hammering rhythm inside his chest.

 

His mind crackled and sung the longer he continued, and he wasn’t sure at what point he closed his eyes and let his head loll back from sensation.  It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time, watching the cord burn bright in his thoughts, twisting and knotting the harder he concentrated.  When he pushed and squeezed it swelled again, and seemed to sear itself more thoroughly to his mind, setting off a cascade of heat through his nerves.

 

His body came alight in response, the link fuelling latent desire that he didn’t even know he had, didn’t know he’d buried throughout the battle to save the planet.  But now it was like a floodgate crashing down, and want overtook him with such sweet finality that his mouth fell open through no will of his own.

 

Yet Newt didn’t stop, _couldn’t_ stop, pushing again and again with his mind, making the connection shiver and grow a bright orange as it responded almost eagerly to his every ministration.  He was certain it wasn’t simply his own desires reflected back at him; he knew it was generating an energy of its own, a rippling glow that pulsed along its length, winding the threads tighter and tighter as it went.

 

His fingernails scraped against the paintwork of the door behind him when the link spit and crackled through his head, and he wondered idly if there was a chance of overload like there had been with the Kaiju and Jaegers.  But it was more academic than anything, because of course Newt wasn’t the kind of person to stop even if that were the case.  And anyway, he was too far gone for that now.

 

His provocations became relentless, constantly prodding and squeezing without hesitation, and the link appeared to be working itself into a frenzy in reply.  He could see it as a blinding white and orange rope, flicking and curling as though on fire, and growing thicker with every passing moment.  And he felt the burn of it in his own body, taking him over like a fever.  He was so caught up in the surge of delirious want that he was sure he was going to set himself alight purely by thought alone.

 

It was the most wonderful thing Newt had ever felt in his whole life.

 

But then, without warning, it all came to a sudden screeching, horrifying halt.  The sensations, the fire, the bafflingly pleasurable sense of union, were all snatched from him by some unknown force that he was unable to stop.

 

He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but he knew he didn’t want it, and he lashed out with his mind in a desperate attempt to scramble back into his fever.  But it only seemed to compound the issue, Newt’s thoughts feeling like they were being deliberately stilled by someone else, and words slipped from him before he could stop them.

 

“No, _please_ …”

 

They were garbled, pleading, despite the fact that there was no-one around to hear them.  And they didn’t help anyway, his mind still clawing in vain for the satisfaction it had been utterly saturated in only moments earlier.

 

He was shivering with its absence now, the sensation not unlike someone turning off a hot tap, and it occurred to him that he had fallen to his knees at some point.  Newt didn’t know if it had been during his fever, or when he’d been ripped from it, but he was the complete picture of wretchedness at that moment. 

 

The force felt like invisible hands pressing down on his hysterical brain to quiet it, as one would attempt to calm a child that had eaten far too much sugar at a birthday party.  But what he craved wasn’t unfettered play or the throwing of a tantrum; it was only the gratification he’d already been granted and then cruelly deprived of.

 

Newt tried again and again to gain something back, _anything_ from the experience he’d been going through, but it was to no avail.  He could still see the connection in his head, it was not severed, but the blaze had diminished significantly, and the threads began to sag and relax without his constant harassment.  It was excruciating to watch.

 

And in his state of desperation and frustration, he found himself surrendering, to that which held him captive, denied him fulfilment.  Or rather, the person that did.

 

Because he knew it wasn’t just some inexplicable force that stopped him.  He supposed he’d always known that, always known the link wasn’t some lifeless object he was interacting with to derive pleasure from.  He hadn’t acknowledged there was someone behind it, someone on the other end, despite the fact that he knew very well that there was.  It was just more comfortable not to think about it.

 

But Newt was at his end, rendered vulnerable in a way he rarely let himself be, and he had to concede.

 

He’d fallen onto his hands and knees now, his breaths shuddering through his ribcage alongside his pounding heart.  His head lolled forward upon his shoulders and his glasses clattered to the ground beneath him.

 

“ _God_ , Hermann, you… I…”

 

The invisible fetters didn’t come undone, but Newt was sure he felt a pause, a less vicious restraint of his desires.  And it was enough to make him want it all the more, a sweat breaking out on his brow.

 

He wasn’t above begging for this.

 

“So much… I want… please, _please_ …”

 

The hands upon Newt’s mind released their vice-like grip, not setting him free exactly, but no longer quashing his interaction with the link they shared.  He almost cried with relief.

 

And then, before he could even think to initiate contact again, what he could have _sworn_ felt like a tongue licked a long, slow line up the length of the glowing, knotted connection.

 

Newt’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

 

There was a bright flash in Newt’s mind, an explosion of pleasure and electricity that burst violently inside his head and sent him temporarily blind.  It ruptured into spasms that rocked through each nerve in his body, and everything became a delicious mess of physical, emotional and mental overload.  Rather undignified noises fell from Newt’s lips as he suffered through the almost unbearable bliss, and he could not stop the shaking and twitching of what felt like all the muscles in his legs and arms.

 

But it was all over far too quickly for Newt’s liking, and as he began to slip rapidly down the hazy slope to normal function he noticed his mouth was rather wet with saliva.  With great effort he slid his eyes open to see a significant amount of drool accumulated on the concrete floor below his face, and a long, wet line still hanging from his lips.

 

He began to laugh.

 

It was breathless and involuntary, starting as a snicker and growing quickly into hysterical cackling.  Newt wiped at his moist mouth with the back of his hand and fell onto his side, before rolling onto his back, still laughing.

 

“Shit, oh shit…” he babbled.  “I… oh…”

 

He was still laughing and muttering to himself when he was hit with an inexplicable wave of exhaustion.

 

Newt promptly passed out.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first chapter was all awkwardness and unspoken things. This chapter went completely off the rails. We go from all feels to all desire. I don't know why. Sorry not sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overwhelmed with excitement, Newt confronts Hermann about their rather intimate experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta.

Newt woke up some hours later still sprawled out on the concrete floor, now with a patch of dried saliva next to him as well as a little down his chin.  He made a face as he felt its crusty film upon his skin, and promptly picked his glasses and himself up to stumble over to the basin.

 

He rinsed his whole face, the cold water allowing his manic thoughts to settle for a moment.  After drying his face, he slipped his glasses back on and took a deep breath.

 

He actually felt no worse for wear, other than a general tiredness, which was no surprise given that it was currently sometime in the middle of the night.  He’d been slightly concerned that the stimulation really _might_ have fried his brain, but there were no apparent aftereffects, at least so far.

 

Newt could still feel the link though, could sense the thick cord humming gently in his mind.

 

He looked in the grimy mirror to see himself staring back with a stupidly large grin on his face, and became aware he was buzzing with excitement again.

 

What he’d experienced, what he’d done – what _they’d_ done – was completely incredible and something no other humans on this planet had ever accomplished.  True, Jaeger pilots possessed strong bonds and had sometimes reported the bleeding of emotions and sensation in the hour or so after drifting, but Newt knew it was nothing like this.

 

There had never been cases of being able to access and interact with the connection, and certainly not to the point of provoking intense neural pleasure.  It had felt like–

 

Well, Newt knew the obvious parallel in this situation.

 

And he therefore knew he should feel weird about sharing it with Hermann.  But they were partners in crime now he supposed, after risking their lives together in the name of science, not to mention basically crawling all over the inside of each other’s heads during the drift.  It was understandable that he wasn’t _entirely_ creeped out by it.

 

In fact, as his full awareness of their connection returned, he was overwhelmed by an inexplicable urge to see Hermann again, to marvel over the awesome ability they’d discovered, and analyse exactly what it was and what it meant.

 

Newt was out the door and practically running down the corridor to Hermann’s quarters before the decision had even settled properly in his mind.

 

Skidding to a halt outside Hermann’s door, he rapped on it hurriedly, his vaguely trembling fingers then returning to comb through his dishevelled locks.

 

After several moments of silence, he knocked again.

 

“Come on, Hermann, I know you’re in there,” he said through the door.  “Don’t think I don’t.  I can tell where you are at any time of the day now thanks to the neural link, you know, so there’s no hiding.  Just let me in so we can talk about everything.”

 

There was a muffled ‘ _No_ ’ from behind the door, and Newt rolled his eyes.

“Open the damn door, Hermann.  Or I’m just going to start talking to you about all this stuff right here in the corridor, where anyone can hear us.  You know I can’t keep quiet when I’m excited about something; the words just coming spewing out of my mouth.  And before you know it I’ll be outlining exactly what it felt like to have a certain mathematician prod my brain into a state of ecstasy –”

 

Hermann’s face was a mask of impotent rage when he opened the door, but Newt just threw him a wide grin.

 

“Get in the bloody room, you insufferable prat,” Hermann seethed.

 

He’d already turned his back and was walking away by the time Newt skipped across the threshold and shut the door behind him.  Not that he could go very far, given the cramped quarters they all possessed, but Newt knew it was a gesture of his disdain more than anything.

 

“Oh Hermann, my man, don’t be like that.  Not after what we shared today– _tonight_ – whenever it was.  We did something no-one has ever done before – something people have wanted to do ever since the development of the neural link.”

 

Hermann turned his head to throw Newt a scowl.

 

“And what’s that?  Harass other people inside their own heads?”

 

Newt sighed, throwing his hands up.

 

“That can’t possibly be your takeaway from all of this,” he complained.  “The things I felt – the chemicals that rushed through me, the way my neurons fired, the bleed of emotion and sensation – it was a thousand shades of awesome and pretty much _literally_ mind-blowing.  Are you going to stand there and tell me you didn’t feel any of it, that you didn’t _enjoy_ any of it?”

 

“What I felt is none of your damn business!” Hermann snapped, folding his arms over his chest.

 

Newt’s grin grew wider at the colour that had begun to rise in Hermann’s cheeks and he tipped his head in curiosity.

 

“Are you _blushing_ , Hermann?” he asked.  “Because to me, that would suggest you have something you’re _ashamed_ of – which in your case would be that you actually _enjoyed_ yourself for once in your life.”

 

“I did not enjoy _anything_.”

 

Newt started to laugh.

 

“You _did_ , you totally did.  And now you just won’t admit it.  Which is _ridiculous_ , because things that feel good are _supposed_ to be enjoyed, believe it or not.  I don’t know why you seem to think they’re not.”

 

“Not when they feel like _this_ –”

 

“Hah!  So you admit it – you _did_ feel what I felt!”

 

Hermann was getting flustered now.

 

“I didn’t say that at all.”

 

“You don’t need to – just look at you!  You’re all huffed up and red and fidgety because you know that I’m right.  You did feel it.  And you _liked_ it.”

 

Newt crossed his arms over his chest, a triumphant grin on his face.  Hermann didn’t reply this time, just turned away again, his mouth turned downwards in a frown.

 

Newt approached him, his tone more placating now.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with liking it, you know.  I mean, we’d be damn crazy not to.  Every single part of us screaming out for more because it felt so freaking incredible.  Especially when, well, _you know_.  At the end, when it was all like–”

 

Newt made an explosive gesture around his head with his hands, but Hermann was still looking at him with a bewildered expression.

 

He sighed, dropping his hands.

 

“You had the same thing, right?  I mean, you…”

 

Newt tipped his head in suggestion, quirking an eyebrow.

 

“I, what?” Hermann asked, incredulous.

 

Newt clutched at his hair.

 

“ _God_ , Hermann, for a smart dude, you’re acting incredibly stupid,” he sighed.  “But I guess you’re just doing that on purpose so you don’t have to deal with it, right?  Well, too bad, because I’m not a prude like you and I’m just gonna to say it how it is.”

 

He stepped in close to Hermann, who tried to back away, but soon realised there was now nowhere to go.  Newt could see the apprehension in his face.  Hell, he could _feel_ it humming in his mind through the connection.  And it only made him more determined.

 

“You had the equivalent of an orgasm in your brain, am I right?”

 

Hermann looked mortified.

 

“Newton Geiszler, you are utterly _perverse_ ,” he hissed.

 

He shoved passed Newt and grabbed his cane, heading for the door.  Newt leapt in front of him, blocking his path and trying to meet his eyes.

 

“Okay, okay, so it’s not the _politest_ way to put it, but it’s about as accurate as it’s going to get, Hermann,” he pointed out.  “You have to admit it did feel a hell of a lot like that, which is why you’re so upset in the first place.  And yeah, doing that type of thing with _you_ is not exactly something I had on my bucket list either, but it’s still an amazing discovery.”

 

Hermann’s expression remained dour as he addressed Newt.

 

“And something you didn’t even bother _asking_ if I wanted to be part of.  You just went ahead and did it, despite the fact that I’d already said some things are better left alone.  But no, what _you_ wanted was far more important, as always.”

 

Newt’s expression softened.

 

“I didn’t mean it to be like that, dude.  I guess I was caught up in it at the time, yeah, but it really seemed like it went both ways.  I mean, that’s why it felt so good.”

 

He leaned close to Hermann, his next words low and his gaze from beneath his lashes.

 

“I could feel how good _you_ felt,” he murmured.

 

Newt knew he wasn’t imagining the wave of heat that passed through Hermann’s mind at his words, though it only registered as a flame in his cheeks and a displeased expression on his face.

 

Newt also knew it sounded a hell of a lot like he was _flirting_ with Hermann, but it wasn’t intentional; the experience they’d shared made him feel so drunk with anticipation that his instincts flared up of their own volition.

 

“Whatever the eventual result, you still provoked the link we _share_ without my permission,” Hermann growled.  “You had _no right_ , Newton.”

 

Newt felt the flicker of more than just anger from Hermann through the connection; though his words never betrayed it, there was disappointment there too.  Its unexpected presence threw Newt off for a moment, and he eventually decided on a more humble approach.

 

“Okay, alright, I admit it – that _was_ a bit of an asshole move on my part.  I shouldn’t have started anything without checking with you first.  So, I’m sorry, I really am.”

 

Hermann’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Why do I sense there’s a ‘ _but’_ to follow that apology?”

 

Newt gave a guilty smile.

 

“But, if I _had_ asked, would you have let me?”

 

“No, of course not – that’s the point.”

 

Newt sighed.

 

“But _why?_ ” he pressed.  “I don’t _get_ it – I’m trying to, but I’m coming up with nothing, dude.  It doesn’t make any sense to me that you’d want to ignore something as incredible as this, for no reason other than it makes you a bit uncomfortable.  And _especially_ now we’ve seen what it can do.  I mean, is pleasure _really_ that scary for you?  Honestly?”

 

Newt was hit with a blast of nervous energy from the link, and he furrowed his brow, searching Hermann’s face for answers.  Despite having as profound a connection as they did, it was clearly not fool-proof in uncovering exactly what was going on in Hermann’s head.

 

Hermann took a breath in through his nose, as though trying to calm whatever was unsettling his emotions.

 

“You said it yourself – the culmination of the experience was highly intimate.  I know you believe it to be ground-breaking research and vital knowledge for humanity, but it’s actually not something to be encouraged between the two of us.”

 

Newt was baffled.

 

“What?  Why?  Why _not_ us?  I mean, if that’s what you’re getting at – specifically _us_ – I don’t see what the problem is,” he stated.  “Because we’re colleagues, because we work together?  Is that it?  Because I have to say, we’ve never exactly treated each other professionally before now, so it’s kinda late for that.”

 

“That’s part of it, yes, but not everything,” Hermann replied slowly.  “As it is with the Jaeger pilots, bonds like this are about trust.  Both parties have to be willing and _free_ to participate in the connection.”

 

For a moment, Newt had no idea what Hermann was on about.  The circumstances surrounding the initiation of their link weren’t strictly voluntary, it was true; they’d chosen it only because the alternative was worldwide destruction.  But the situation presented to them now wasn’t like that at all – they were able to make decisions where the repercussions were simply personal rather than global.

 

It was then the penny dropped, and the words were out of Newt’s mouth before he even had a chance to think them through.

 

“Oh, hang on, this is about Vanessa then, right?  You’re worried about whether this means you’re betraying her trust or something, I guess, because of our unique bond.  Well you know, if we’re talking about inappropriate contact here, it’s not as if she’s really in any position to complain, is she?”

 

Sometimes his mouth moved too fast for its own good, and the panicked warning of _no wait stop_ from his mind came much too late.

 

Hermann’s expression became fixed in cold anger, and Newt was suddenly hit by a wave of both rage and anguish through the link.

 

The realisation of what he’d just done followed soon after, and he cringed, his expression apologetic.

 

“Oh shit, wait, wait, hang on, I didn’t mean – that didn’t come out the way – what I _meant_ was, rather, you shouldn’t feel bad or anything.  I shouldn’t have said, about her – it’s just from the drift I saw – and I know it’s none of my business, it’s just been poured into my head involuntarily.  I’m sorry dude, it was a stupid, _stupid_ thing to say, I know that.  I know.”

 

Hermann looked as though he could rip Newt’s head off at any moment, though inside Newt’s mind the hurt he’d provoked was just as intense as the wrath.

 

“It’s time for you to leave,” Hermann growled.

 

But Newt couldn’t; he hadn’t meant for everything to get so screwed up so suddenly.  He had to fix this.

 

He tried again.

 

“Hermann, wait, no, just let me explain.  I wasn’t _trying_ to be an asshole, I really wasn’t, and I’m sorry.  Again.  You know what I can be like when I talk – I wasn’t thinking – and the drift just messes with you – it gets all mixed up.  The flashes of you and Vanessa fighting felt like my _own_ memories and I–”

 

“ _Get out!_ ” Hermann shouted.

 

The surge of anger in his head was so overwhelming this time, a deafening crash of emotion through their bond, that it was as though Hermann had actually struck him across the face.  It caused Newt to stagger backwards, dazed.  Coupled with the sight of Hermann’s thunderous expression and white-knuckled grip on his cane, Newt’s flight response kicked in, and he found himself scrambling out the door and down the corridor as fast as his legs would carry him.

 

*


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The persistent neural link with Hermann is now proving tiring more than anything.

 

Newt slept the rest of that night purely due to exhaustion.  His thoughts had been running a mile a minute as he’d scrambled back to his quarters, but as soon as his head had hit the pillow he was out like a light.

 

Despite this, he still woke the next morning feeling like he’d been doing laps of the Shatterdome, not to mention the way his head was quick to remind him of all the stupid things he’d said and done the night before.

 

He ran a hand over his face and sat up, sighing and trying to steady both his nerves and his turbulent emotions.  The problem was, Newt couldn’t even tell if they were all his or still part of the bleed-over from Hermann.  It seemed the closer the physical proximity, the clearer the sensations, but even at distance he knew he wasn’t free from it.

 

And he wouldn’t be able to stand a whole day of it, with nothing to do but finish packing up the lab.  He needed a distraction.

 

*

 

Hannibal Chau’s goons didn’t seem particularly surprised to see Newt when he turned up at Leatherback’s corpse at the docks that morning.

 

Or rather, what remained of it.  Newt knew most of the really interesting bits had been salvaged and boxed up as soon as it fell, and what was left was mostly rotted and hazardous goop around the skeletal structures.  Even a large percentage of those were damaged thanks to the overzealous pilots of Gipsy Danger, and Newt couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed at their lack of forethought.

 

He marched right up to the closest of the blackmarket traders and thrust a finger in her face, giving her his strongest no-bullshit look.  That said, it was a little hard to be imposing when he was a full head shorter than her.

 

“Alright you bastards, you have precisely ten seconds to give me access to the last remnants of Leatherback on this site, before I rain down the full force of the PPDC and UN on your asses.  Since I pretty much single-handedly figured out how to destroy the breach and save this goddamn world, they owe me big-time.  You _all_ do.” 

 

Unsurprisingly, the woman’s expression was a mix between irritated and amused.

 

“We don’t owe you shit, little man,” she informed him.  “But we’ve already taken our share anyway.  If you want to poison yourself with useless Kaiju leftovers, go ahead.  Good riddance.”

 

She turned away to start talking on her cellphone in Cantonese, ignoring him, and Newt took that as permission to do as he wished.

 

It took him several minutes to come across a spare HAZMAT suit, some specimen jars and storage cases.  He dragged the jars and cases to the outskirts of the remains, and then, slipping on the suit, made his way onto the toxic ground.

 

He had work to do.

 

*

 

Sifting through a decaying Kaiju body for useful specimens wasn’t the easiest work to begin with, let alone having to do so in a bulky and cumbersome HAZMAT suit.  And after spending a full day hacking at putrid flesh and bone, and loading it into containers for transport, Newt could barely stand up.  He’d never been much of one for heavy manual labour, and his lack of decent sleep lately only compounded the issue.

 

He arrived back at his quarters, grimy with sweat and aching in every bone of his body.  He wasn’t sure if he managed to kick his door all the way shut, but couldn’t muster the strength to give a single shit about it before pulling his clothes off and shuffling into the shower.  He stayed under the hot water with his eyes closed for an indeterminate amount of time before realising he was swaying a little too much, and he wouldn’t be able to stay upright much longer.

 

Exiting the shower, Newt retrieved boxers and a band shirt from the drawer and pulled them on, his eyes only half open.  He poured himself a large glass of water and downed it in one go, before staggering over to his armchair and flopping down in it.

 

He would brush his teeth and get into bed soon enough, he just needed to sit down for a moment.

 

Newt let his eyelids droop closed.

 

*

 

It was the ache in his neck that woke him a couple of hours later.

 

His armchair, as comfortable as it was for lounging and reading, was not ideal for sleeping.  And certainly not in the manner Newt had fallen asleep, with one leg hitched up over the arm and head lolled against one side of the wingback. 

 

Once he cracked his eyelids open, it took him a moment to notice that he was now covered in a blanket and nearly all the lights were out; the orange glow of the strip lighting above the sink provided the only illumination.

 

His heart also skipped a beat when he saw the silhouette of someone lying in his bed.  But his pulse calmed only a moment later when he spotted a cane propped up against the wall, and he was instead suddenly filled with a brief rush of warmth.  Shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes, Newt shifted to tuck his knees up and lean his cheek against the side of the chair.

 

He let his gaze track over the sleeping form of Hermann.  He’d never really taken the time to look at his colleague this closely before, and certainly not without the other man knowing about it.

 

Hermann was on his side, his body toward Newt, and his face relaxed.  The usual furrow in his brow was gone, as well as the pinched quality around his lips, and his hair was ruffled where his head met the pillow.  His breathing was slow and steady, his chest rising and falling under a typically ugly sweater, which was pulled down over stripy pyjama bottoms.  Those were dorky of course, but not hideous in the way most of Hermann’s other clothes were, and Newt couldn’t help the small smile that curled at his lips at the sight of them.

 

Hermann’s bad leg was propped up by the good one that lay bent underneath it, and his feet were covered in woolly socks.  Newt noticed a pair of slippers tucked neatly under the bed and round-rimmed glasses with a neck chain upon the bedside table.  He frowned at how none of these things felt at all out of place to him, despite the fact that they should.  They were _his_ quarters, after all.  He wondered if this was another of the side-effects of their link.

 

His eyes travelled back up to Hermann’s shadowed features, and he let his focus soften, his thoughts diminishing to a quiet hum.

 

Newt wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring.  It was strangely addictive and, if he was honest, comforting, to watch Hermann sleeping here.  It seemed to fill a void inside his chest he wasn’t even aware he had, and he wondered if there was any way he could ask Hermann to make a habit of it that wouldn’t sound completely weird.

 

_I like the way you look sleeping in my bed, Hermann.  Feel like coming by more often to do that?_

 

No.  Probably not, then.

 

Thoughts about his colleague dropping in to his quarters were still turning over in Newt’s mind when he lifted his gaze to find Hermann watching him.

 

He froze, his heartbeat suddenly very loud in his ears.  Hermann looked surprised, and a little confused, and for several moments there was nothing but silence between them as the mathematician held his gaze.

 

“Newton.”

 

“Hermann.”

 

Hermann blinked at him a few times, and his brow settled back into the slight frown it always had when he was awake.

 

“You’re wondering what I’m doing here, I imagine.”

 

“No,” Newt replied automatically.  “Well, _yes_ , but whatever.  It’s okay.”

 

Hermann sat up, his gaze drawing down to where his hands smoothed his sweater.

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he explained.  “I was walking the halls and noticed your lights on and door open.  After realising you hadn’t dropped dead, I shut everything off and had intended to leave you be.  But I’d been walking for some time, so sat down on your bed for a moment to rest.  I suppose I was more weary than I thought.”

 

“Apparently.”

 

Hermann folded his hands in his lap.  Newt couldn’t quite read his mood, and the link was giving him nothing.  He wondered if Hermann had found a way to block or dampen it.  If he had, that would be no fun at all.

 

Newt went on.

 

“I mean, it’s not a big deal.  I don’t mind that you’re here, even if it is in my bed.”

 

Newt grinned softly, and at this, Hermann seemed to catch himself all of a sudden.  He started to climb up and out of the bed, flustered and muttering apologies, eyes darting away from Newt as he returned to his usual prim demeanour.

 

Newt’s hand shot out to stop him, and Hermann stilled in place at the sudden contact.

 

“No, wait.  Don’t go.”

 

The words tumbled from Newt’s lips without his permission.

 

Hermann’s gaze fixed on the place where Newt’s fingers had wrapped around his bicep, the digits digging into the woolly fabric of his sweater.  Newt snatched his hand away as though burned, and threw Hermann an uneasy look.  His colleague’s expression matched his own, eyes scrutinising and trying to calculate what the other was thinking.

 

Out of desperation, Newt deferred to their lingering connection again for answers, but this time it was a complete muddle of emotions that he couldn’t make sense of, especially at this hour.  The old-fashioned way would have to do.

 

“What I mean is, you don’t have to leave,” he clarified.  “It’s totally fine.”

 

Hermann had only made it half-way up off the bed, his fatigue and bad leg slowing his escape, and he eased himself back down now to a seated position.  He looked down at his neatly folded hands in his lap before lifting his eyes to meet Newt’s again.

 

Silence fell between them once more, and Newt could hear his heart thudding in his ears.  It was so confusing, being acutely aware of Hermann in the back of his head, yet still not really knowing or understanding the man in any real way.

 

And the emotions – _God,_ the emotions – they still felt like some crazy feedback loop that had no discernible beginning or end.  It was becoming exhausting.

 

Newt sighed, rubbing a knuckle in his eye.

 

“What I said last night–”

 

“Newton, there’s no need to explain,” Hermann interrupted.

 

“There _is_.  You’re not supposed to judge things you see in the Drift, and I _did_ – I judged your marriage and made stupid comments that I had no right to make.  A few fragments of memories don’t make me an expert on your life, and I shouldn’t have acted like it did.”

 

Hermann looked down at his hands again for a moment, his expression still grim but a little softer now.

 

“The memories may be fragmented, but the emotions were truthful.  That was why I was so angry; I had not wished you to know.”

 

Newt spoke gently now.

 

“I know, man.  And believe me, I wasn’t trying to be nosey.”

 

“I believe you.  It’s not your fault – we don’t get to choose what’s seen in the Drift.”

 

Newt gave a small, wry smile.

 

“So of course, I saw the one thing you didn’t want me to see.”

 

Hermann’s snort was soft.

 

“Yes, well, Sod’s Law and all that.”

 

“Yeah,” Newt agreed.  “I guess Drifting is more of a bitch than they say, huh?”

 

“Ours has certainly turned out that way.”

 

Newt sagged, his gaze dropping to where his fingers fidgeted at the fabric of the armchair.

 

“I’m sorry it’s been so awful for you.  I know you wouldn’t have picked me for a Drift partner if you’d had a choice – being lumped with this pile of crazy isn’t exactly an attractive prospect.”

 

He tried for self-deprecating, but his tone came out more wretched than he intended.  Hermann didn’t miss it.

 

“Newton, that’s not what I meant,” he informed him.  “Being connected in the way we are, I find it very trying, yes – as I would having _anyone_ in my head.”  He paused here, and Newt looked back up at him as he hesitated.  “But if it’s any consolation, I will admit you are probably the person I would _least_ hate having in there.”

 

Newt gave a sloppy grin.

 

“That was totally a compliment, wasn’t it?  Hermann Gottlieb gave me his approval – I guess the world really must have ended after all.”

 

Hermann smiled despite his apparent best efforts to scowl.  Even if he hadn’t, Newt wouldn’t have believed his colleague was honestly annoyed – the link was humming with warmth again.

 

Newt allowed the sensation to soothe him, and the relaxation made exhaustion come upon him all at once.  He yawned.

 

“I should head back to my quarters, let you rest,” Hermann said, observing his state.

 

Newt felt irrationally bothered by the idea of Hermann leaving.  Some of it was due to his intellectual curiosity – he wanted to further discuss the implications of their link, and how to deal with it more professionally in the future.  But for the most part he just ached for Hermann to be close.  It was a very strange sensation.

 

“Oh, yeah, of course dude.”

 

The words were difficult to get out, but even more difficult to make sound flippant, though Newt was fairly sure he managed it.

 

Still, Hermann hadn’t moved from his position on the bed.

 

He watched Newt with an odd expression on his face, not quite annoyed, but not exactly comfortable either.  He swallowed several times, his fingers curling into fists in his lap.

 

“I should go,” he said again.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Newt let several more long moments pass between them before continuing.

 

“But you can’t, right?” he said slowly.  “I mean, it feels weird, like there’s something keeping you here.”

 

Hermann sighed, his fingers coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

 

“Yes, precisely.  I don’t understand it – I can’t imagine any physical reason why I can’t stand up and leave, and yet there seems to be.”

 

“Well, I do kinda feel like I might vomit if you go.  I suppose that’s a physical reason not to.”

 

Hermann wrinkled his nose but his expression wasn’t entirely disdainful.

 

“That it is.”

 

“So don’t go,” Newt stated, too tired to care how brazen he was being now.  “Just stay.”

 

Hermann’s brow rose a little in surprise.

 

“Newton, I am not appropriating your bunk and making you sleep on an armchair,” he replied.  “Despite what you may think, I’m not that cruel.”

 

Newt snorted.

 

“And I’m not that much of a chump.”

 

Newt levered himself out of the chair and climbed onto the bed beside Hermann, lying so his back was pressed up against the wall.  Hermann watched him with slightly wide eyes, remaining upright.

 

“We _cannot_ share–”

 

“Come here, you dick,” Newt interrupted.

 

He grabbed Hermann by the back of his ugly sweater and yanked him down onto the mattress, amid much verbal protest.  Bodily, however, he didn’t put up that much of a fight, and eventually came to lie facing Newt on the small cot.

 

Hermann let out a long-suffering sigh.  Newt just grinned.

 

“In case it’s not clear, I _don’t_ approve of this.”

 

“It’s pretty clear.  But right now, Hermann, I don’t care.  I need sleep, you need sleep, and this seems like the only way we’re gonna get it.”  He reached for the strip-lighting switch and snapped it off.  “So suck it up and get some rest.”

 

Newt heard Hermann exhale in exasperation again, and he rolled his eyes in the darkness.

 

Then he closed them, and fell into the most comfortable and peaceful sleep he’d had in months.

 

*


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt's breakfast turns out to be surprisingly pleasant, and not just because of the good food.

 

Hermann was gone when he woke up the next morning.

 

Newt wasn’t all that surprised, though he begrudgingly had to admit that he was disappointed.  Okay, so they hadn’t slept together in _that_ way, but he still thought it was a bit bad manners to leave someone’s bed without saying goodbye.

 

He did have a vague memory of someone disturbing his sleep and making the bed cold very early in the morning, and possibly Hermann speaking to him at some point.  But then again, he also thought he remembered an arm curled around his waist and face buried in his shoulder during the night, so it was likely he’d just imagined the whole lot.

 

Newt scrubbed at his face with one hand, reaching for his glasses with the other as he sat up.

 

His stomach was grumbling, which meant it was probably late morning.  And that probably also meant there was nothing left in the mess hall but cold, sloppy remnants of scrambled eggs and full-fibre cereal that tasted like water-soaked cardboard.  This still seemed to be the case despite the number of personnel in the Shatterdome growing smaller with each passing day.

 

Not that food options were particularly limited anymore.  They were no longer working around the clock to prevent the end of the world, so Newt did actually have time to go out and walk the streets of Hong Kong for a leisurely meal.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that; it was certainly high time he did.

 

*

 

The air was warm and muggy outside, as it always seemed to be in Hong Kong.  Sometimes Newt forgot that, working in the dank, chilly bowels of the Shatterdome; it was always a surprise when he emerged.

 

It wasn’t too unbearable, given that he had no coat with him – his leather jacket was still in too much of a state after saving the world to be able to wear out anymore.  He knew Hermann would be glad about that.  He’d always rolled his eyes when Newt had slipped it on, labelling it ‘ _ridiculous’_.  And really, that was just more reason to get it cleaned and repaired as soon as possible.

 

Newt wandered the narrow streets, weaving in and out of the crowds, and making his way to an enclave of canteens and noodle houses at this end of town.  He wasn’t really sure what he was in the mood for, though he knew pretty much anything he picked was likely to be satisfying given the bland sustenance of late.

 

His feet took him to a row of food stalls crowded with rows of meat on sticks and fried into balls, and he felt his stomach rumble at the aromas.  Newt reached into the pocket of his skinny jeans to scrounge together some money, his eyes coming to rest on a bowl of rice noodles and fish balls.

 

It was at that moment he felt a prickle in the back of his head, and he turned to find Hermann standing nearby.  His eyes were scanning the scribbled signs and displays of food, apparently oblivious to Newt’s presence.

 

“Yo, Hermann!”

 

Hermann’s gaze lifted at Newt’s shout, and he briefly appeared startled before schooling his expression to one of vague disdain.  Newt wasn’t fooled for a moment.  He threw Hermann a wide grin.

 

But then he was shoved unexpectedly forward as people crowded closer to the food stall, and he turned to elbow his way in before he got excluded completely.  It took a minute or so for him to collect and pay for his meal, and by the time he escaped the crush, Hermann was already halfway down the street.

 

Newt squeezed and shoved his way through the crowds to catch up with him, struggling to keep his breakfast from being dropped or thrown in the process.  When he got close enough, he shouted for Hermann over the din of the city, but the mathematician never turned around.  From the flutter of emotion he felt around the edges of his mind, Newt suspected Hermann was deliberately ignoring him.

 

He eventually got close enough to lay a hand on Hermann, curling his fingers into the fabric of his sweater to stop him escaping.

 

“Slow down, man.”

 

Hermann finally turned his head to look at Newt, his expression guarded and posture stiff.  He continued walking, forcing Newt to press close to him in the crowd to avoid losing him.

 

“What is it, Doctor Geiszler?  Does the Marshall need something?”

 

Newt blinked at him.

 

“What?  No.  I just wanted you to wait for me.  Thought we could have breakfast together or whatever.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Uh, because that’s what friends _do_ , Hermann,” he replied, frowning.

 

“We’re not –”

 

Hermann stopped his trail of thought, and Newt threw him a look.

 

“Not friends?  Nice, dude, real nice.”

 

Hermann sighed and turbulence bloomed in Newt’s head.

 

“I’ve already eaten this morning, I’m not hungry.”

 

“Then why were you at the food stalls?”

 

Hermann’s steeled expression faltered for a moment.  Suddenly, it occurred to Newt why he’d been there, and from the look on his face, Hermann knew too.  He thought it best not to point that out right now.

 

“Well, whatever.  You’re here now, so you can come and keep me company while I eat.  If you’re lucky, I might even give you one of my fish balls.”

 

Before Hermann could protest, Newt had grabbed his hand and was dragging him away from the crowded streets, down toward the harbour.  Hermann tutted and sighed as he tried to extricate his hand from Newt’s grip, but Newt held fast.  He wasn’t going to let Herman escape so easily.

 

Besides, he was enjoying the tingle of warmth that spread up his arm from their joined hands to flare in his chest.

 

After a couple of minutes they came to a more sparsely populated part of the promenade, and Newt led them to a nearby bench.

 

Hermann gave him a pointed stare.

 

“Newton, you’re still holding my hand.”

 

Newt looked down to see that yes, indeed he was.

 

He let it go and pressed his lips together for a moment.

 

“Sorry.”

 

He wasn’t.

 

The sigh that Hermann let out indicated that he was well aware of that.  Newt shrugged and shoved Hermann down into the narrow bench space, before squeezing in beside him.  He opened up his container of still-hot food and wiggled around to settle in more comfortably upon the seat.  Another long-suffering sigh escaped Hermann as Newt began to shovel noodles into his mouth.

 

Newt wolfed down several mouthfuls, then paused, turning his chopsticks in offer to Hermann.

 

“Noodles?  Fish ball?”

 

“No, I’m fine,” Hermann replied.

 

Newt quirked an eyebrow, pushing the bowl closer.

 

“Come on, it’s pretty tasty,” he coaxed.  “You’re missing out.”

 

“No.  Thank you.”

 

Hermann’s expression was stern, and Newt huffed in defeat, throwing a hand up.

 

“Fine, whatever.  Keep acting like a child, see what I care.”

 

“ _I’m_ acting like a child?” Hermann asked, incredulous.  “This from a man who has monsters drawn down his arms and listens to music about farm animals.”

 

Newt made a face.

 

“What?  What are you even talking about?  I don’t listen to anything like that.”

 

“You had some hideous noise on in the lab the other day that talked about pigs.”

 

It took Newt a moment to realise what Hermann was referring to, at which point he scoffed.

 

“Dude, have you even bothered to learn what that song is about?” he demanded.  “For your information, it’s a reflection of humanity’s need to turn on those it initially venerates – those who create something beautiful, something incredible.  That we can’t just acknowledge achievement, we have to then destroy those who made it.  It’s classic industrial, man – you _cannot_ bad mouth it.”

 

“Racket like that should be against the law,” Hermann retorted.

 

“Just because it’s not a damn symphony, doesn’t make it a ‘racket’, Hermann.  If you actually took the time to listen to the artist, you’d know the music has intricate and nuanced arrangements, and explores many dark qualities of the human psyche, like addiction, greed, self-deception and regret.  It’s powerful and important stuff, whether you realize it or not.  So, shut up.”

 

Hermann looked startled, and it was a moment before he replied.

 

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said eventually.  “Your head is full of memories of your musical obsessiveness.”

 

Newt sucked down another lot of noodles and turned his head to look at Hermann.

 

“You know, that’s like the first time you’ve voluntarily brought up our Drift together.”

 

Hermann frowned.

 

“Yes, well.  I don’t feel the need to discuss it every hour of the day, as you seem to.”

 

“I don’t need to talk about it _all_ the time,” Newt protested.  “I just don’t want to pretend like it never happened – which is what you’re doing.  Especially because it’s still _happening_ , really.”

 

“Because you persist in making it so.  All your poking and prodding of the connection no doubt only serves to make it remain.  Theoretically, if you let it be, it would dissipate on its own.”

 

Newt snorted.

 

“Or it could make no difference whatsoever.  And since when has leaving things alone ever helped anyone accomplish anything?  If we’d taken that attitude with the kaiju – _oh, maybe they’ll go away if we just ignore them_ – if we’d done that, we’d all be screwed right now.  You’ve seen firsthand with me that I was right about fortune favoring the brave, so how can you even pretend otherwise?”

 

Hermann’s frown had deepened throughout Newt’s speech, and Newt wondered for a moment if he was going to be the recipient of a slap to the head in the very near future.  Though, knowing Hermann’s stuffy demeanor, probably not.

 

“High-risk strategies are useful in some scenarios, Newton, but not all.  We aren’t at war, the end of the world isn’t imminent, and presumably neither of us will die of this at any moment.  There’s no reason to go blundering into this purely for your entertainment.”

 

Newt sighed in frustration.

 

“It’s not entertainment, Hermann.  Well, not _only_ that.  Okay, yeah, I admit I find our connection a pleasant experience – evidently more than _you_ do anyway.  But mostly, I’m curious – I wanna learn about it.  About you.”

 

Newt stared down at his noodles, swirling them around in the soup with his chopsticks.  Hermann went still beside him, and Newt felt the familiar burble of suppressed emotion from him again.

 

“Why do you wish to learn about _me_?” Hermann asked quietly.  “Didn’t you have more than enough of that in the Drift?”

 

Newt shrugged and leaned back in the bench, drumming his heels on the ground.

 

“I dunno, maybe not.  Ever since that first crash of our minds together, there’s been this pull – this weird, constant tugging at my brain of something that I feel I should know.  And when I realized that it was actually _you_ in there, it just seemed to make it more intense.  I can’t explain it, really – it’s a new impulse I’m having a really hard time controlling.”

 

Hermann reached over to take the chopsticks from Newt’s fingers, pulling the last fish ball from the bowl.  He popped his into his mouth and then set the chopsticks back, folding his hands into his lap.

 

“You really want to see in here that much?” he asked, tapping at his temple with one finger.

 

Newt blinked at him.

 

“Well… yeah.  I guess I do.”

 

Hermann pressed his lips together in thought and furrowed his brow.  He sighed.

 

“I suppose it merits investigation,” he conceded.  “At least to identify how the link functions, so we can learn how to control it.”

 

Newt’s eyes lit up.

 

“Oh man, really?!  You’re gonna let me do this?”

 

Hermann scowled at him.

 

“No – _we_ are going to do this,” he corrected.  “But _only_ if you promise to never interfere with the connection without my permission.  If you cross that line again Newton, it’s over, and I will cease _all_ contact with you.  I will never see or speak to you again, let alone initiate neural contact.  Do you understand?”

 

Hermann’s expression was severe, but Newt couldn’t stop grinning.  He slapped a hand on Hermann’s forearm.

 

“Oh, yeah, totally.  I’m down with that.  Whatever I gotta do, dude.  It’s gonna be _awesome_.”

 

Hermann threw him his usual withering stare, and they fell into silence as Newt finished off his noodle soup.

 

After a moment, Newt felt an odd twinge of melancholy in his chest, and as Hermann spoke again, weariness evident in his voice, he realized the source was not his own.

 

“However, I would prefer to give a few weeks before we begin any investigations, Doctor Geiszler,” Hermann said.  “My mind is still trying to recover from the shock of the unfiltered Drift, not to mention facing and surviving an apocalypse.  If you could restrain yourself until then, I think it would produce more reliable results.”

 

Newt threw his food container and chopsticks into the bin beside the bench, then spread his fingers out along his thighs.

 

“Yeah, of course, no problem.  I’m happy to wait.”

 

Hermann gave him a pointed look, his lips threatening a smile.

 

”You’re the most impatient person I’ve _ever_ met.  This should be entertaining.”

 

“Hey, I can be patient when I need to.  I just don’t see the need most of the time – people always make excuses for putting things off when they should just be out there doing what they need to,” he argued.  “But you wanna wait with this – understandably so.  And if that means I actually get to _do_ it, then I will.”

 

Hermann looked as though he didn’t quite believe him, but didn’t further labour the point.

 

“Alright Newton, then we have an agreement.”

 

Newt cocked his head.

 

“Uh, should we shake on it or something?”

 

“If you’d like.”

 

“Sure, why not?”

 

Newt thrust out his hand, and Hermann unfolded his to meet it.  A flurry of sensation whirled in Newt’s chest as they came into contact, and it took most of his self-control not to reach for their link instinctively.  A pleasant warmth still sparked in the back of his head, curling down his spine and making his mouth turn dry.

 

He hoped Hermann didn’t count that as reneging on the deal.

 

But if Hermann felt the same, he didn’t show it.  He just shook Newt’s hand stiffly and then released it, giving him a small nod.

 

“I’m glad it’s settled for now then,” he remarked.  “I think we could both use a clear head in our decisions about the PPDC.”

 

Newt quirked an eyebrow.

 

“What decisions?”

 

Hermann sighed again.

 

“I should assume you’ve not read any of your messages or mail in the last week, then?”

 

“I’ve been kinda, um… _distracted_.  I was getting around to it, ya know.”

 

“The PPDC is getting funded again.  This Shatterdome is only shutting down temporarily – it’s being rebuilt as a new research facility.  They intend to reopen in a few months, at which time we’ll be offered long-term tenures.”

 

Newt’s eyes went wide.

 

“Oh my god, that’s _awesome!_ ”  He paused at the expression on Hermann’s face.  “Isn’t it?”

 

Hermann wouldn’t meet his gaze.

 

“Of course it will be important to analyse all the information we collected in Operation Pitfall; there’s a lot of data there that now confirms my models and adds further detail to our understanding of the kaiju and where they come from.  But beyond that, I don’t know that there’s enough to warrant a lengthy stay.  The Breach is closed now, after all.”

 

_But for how long?_

 

Newt didn’t voice his first thought, as it was quickly overridden by the more visceral reactionto Hermann’s implication.

 

“You’re not gonna stay, then?” he asked.

 

He felt his heart jump straight into his throat, and he cursed the way his mind attempted to reach for Hermann’s again.

 

“I’ve not decided,” Hermann said slowly.  “Our hand in closing the Breach hasn’t been kept as quiet as Marshall Hansen would have liked; I’ve had offers from various institutions over the last few days.  As I’m sure you have, if you ever get around to reading your mail.  The PPDC isn’t your only option anymore.”

 

“Okay… but it kinda feels like home now though, don’t you think?”

 

Hermann’s smile was wistful.

 

“We all have to leave the nest at some point, Newton.”

 

Newt chewed at a fingernail, his heart sinking inside his chest.

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

They sat in silence for a while, the newly accumulated information about Hermann’s departure turning over in Newt’s mind.

 

Eventually, Hermann stood up, collecting his cane.

 

“Well, I have some errands to run before this afternoon, so I should get to those,” he said.  “I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

 

Newt looked up to meet Hermann’s gaze, his brain once again giddy at the satisfying hum it produced underneath his skin.  He wondered if he should be trying to ignore it.

 

“Yeah, sure.  See ya, man.”

 

Hermann gave him a pointed look.

 

“And check your messages, Newton.”

 

Newt waved a dismissive hand.

 

“Yeah, yeah, _okay_.”

 

“You’ll miss something important if you don’t.”

 

With that, Hermann turned and headed back along the promenade, disappearing from Newt’s view into the crowded Hong Kong streets.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been to Hong Kong, so I apologise if anything I describe here is inaccurate. I researched as best I could, I promise!


End file.
